Page 68 of Faking I Do
“Your boy’s got a backbone.” Buck spit the words out toward my dad. “Turns out your pops didn’t necessarily trust the local bank with his savings.”
“What?” I glanced to my dad. “What’s he talking about?”
Finally, my dad shifted in his seat and a little bit of color returned to his face. “Pops was his own bank. He preferred to keep his cash right under his nose.”
“You mean . . .”
“Yes. Your grandfather stashed pockets of cash all over the yard of the house. Figured with it being so close to the warehouse and under the town’s protection that it would be a safe place to store it.”
“And he can’t go dig it up himself?” I asked.
Dad shook his head. “He doesn’t necessarily know we’re going after it.”
“Whoa.” I put my palms out. “There’s no way I’m crossing Pops.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you it’s not his?” Dad asked. “He owes some very dangerous people quite a bit of cash.”
“Then why won’t he dig it up himself?” I asked. Even though my pops might bend the law from time to time, his word was as good as gold. “Pops always honors his commitments.”
“Not this time.” Dad lowered his head. “Our customers lost patience with the disruption in service. Buck sent him up to Oklahoma to stall. But we’re not going to have enough, not unless we make up the rest with the stash from the yard.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I wiped the back of my hand across my brow.
“Wish I was. Then we’d all be happy,” Buck said. “I’ve agreed to help your grandfather out this time. But I still need to answer to my higher-ups. You get me fifty grand from the yard and I’ll let your grandfather live. Oh, and keep little Lacey Cherish from gracing the front page of the paper.”
I slid my gaze from Buck to my dad. “Pops doesn’t know about this?”
“He hasn’t checked his stash in years,” Dad said as he handed me a creased piece of paper.
“What’s this?” I took it, recognizing my grandfather’s chicken-scratch writing.
“A map. Just take some from each hole until you get what Buck needs. Pops will never know and we’ll get him off the hook. Lacey, too.”
“And then you’ll leave everyone alone?” I directed the question to Buck.
“You’ve got my word.” Buck held two fingers up like he was making some sort of pledge.
I regretted the words before I even uttered them, wishing I could take them back as they spilled from my mouth. “Fine, I’m in.”
“Great. I realize this will take quite a bit of effort so I’ve decided to be generous. You’ve got a month. If I don’t have that cash in hand by then you can kiss your pops and your mayor’s future goodbye.”
I waited until Buck swaggered out the door until I turned on my father. “What the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea what kind of position you’ve put me in?”
“Would have been a hell of a lot easier if you’d gotten us the damn beavers when we asked for them in the first place.” Dad cradled his head in his hands.
My palm smacked the edge of the desk. “Would have been a hell of a lot easier if you’d been straight with me from the get-go.”
Dad looked up, his eyes streaked with pink lines like he hadn’t slept in days. The side of his face still held a greenish-purplish tinge. “I guess we both learned something from this experience.”
Not wanting to justify that remark with any kind of response, I took a final, long look at my dad then folded up the treasure map and slid it into my back pocket. My grandfather and father had sealed their own fate. But Lacey . . . she was only trying to dothe right thing. I couldn’t let her take the fall for something my family had done. I needed to come through for her on this, and sooner rather than later. Hopefully she’d never find out about it.
CHAPTER 35
LACEY
I flippedthrough pictures of funeral wreaths. Some were shaped like horseshoes, some like hearts. Flowers in every color of the rainbow decorated the wire frames. That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I’d set up the appointment to chat about flowers. Since Adeline canceled and took all of her vendors with her, I would have to get creative when it came to finding people to help me with wedding plans if I wanted to keep the business local. We didn’t have a local florist, so I’d reached out to the only place in town that used flowers on a regular basis . . . the funeral home.
Bodie pushed through the door, his boots not making a sound on the plush carpet. He took the seat next to me in the front room. “Hey. Sorry I’m a few minutes late.”
